


it's not your hands, searching slow in the dark

by ghostemo



Series: go your own way [1]
Category: Love Simon (2018), Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda - Becky Albertalli
Genre: College AU, I... don't know what this is, M/M, essentially simon was outed and bullied and bram was too scared to come out, gay nonsense, gotta redeem halloween, halloween party, heavily reliant on the movie i don't know the books, its..... sappy, minor usage of homophobic slurs, movie spoilers kind of, some unwanted touching though it's very brief and unimportant, they go to the same big state school idk, two years after the movie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-24
Updated: 2018-03-24
Packaged: 2019-04-07 09:33:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14077977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostemo/pseuds/ghostemo
Summary: God, you’d think being in love with the same person for nearly six years would make talking to them easier, but it’s just as impossible as it’s ever been.Christ, he’s been in love with Simon Spier for six fucking years.





	1. a halloween redo

**Author's Note:**

> Hey ya'll this is my first fanfic in like... five or six years and definitely the first i've posted here for this fandom. So yeah, Simon was outed in his senior year like in the movie but Bram was, understandably too scared to come out as well. So this takes place two years later in their sophomore year of college and coincidently they go to the same state school... somewhere in the US. Probably Georgia. They're at a Halloween party, parallels galore, and it's sappy sappy sappy. Also highkey did not edit this, so let me know if you notice something. Thanks for coming to my tedTalk.
> 
> (Title is from the song If We Were Vampires by Jason Isbell and the 400 Unit)

With a red solo cup in hand and a fake felt flower tucked behind his ear, Bram can’t help but think back on a similar Halloween party two years ago during his senior year of high school. While he didn’t throw this specific Halloween party, thanks Alpha Sig, he’s still stuck watching Simon Spier toss a shot back like a pro, tucked into the lean side of Cal Price. Ok, so that didn’t happen at his Halloween party… back then Simon could barely handle beer and Cal Price wasn’t Simon’s on-and-off again quasi boyfriend. 

Bram’s gut twists and he takes another drink. _Ack_. Fucking Jungle Juice. 

Nope, at his Halloween party he couldn’t stop thinking about drunkenly kissing Simon and nearly gave in when Simon, giggling and flushed had leaned in too close and excitedly begged Bram to go and sing karaoke with him. Which, looking back, probably would have been a better course of action than closet gay panic which led to making out with a girl wearing a minion costume. Only for Simon to walk in on. Ugh, yeah ok that night could’ve ended better. 

“Bod-y shots! Bod-y shots!” Chants the crowd of his peers, shaking Bram from his introspective moping. God, who even is he? Bram loves Halloween! And yet, here he is making moon eyes at Simon Spier from a dark corner and not getting down to the Monster Mash… or whatever it is that’s blasting from the speakers. Though to be fair, the moon eyes are fairly on brand for him. So… whatever.

When Bram looks up from the muddy red of the contents of his cup, Simon has slipped away… and so has Cal Price. Whatever. _Whatever_. He’s contemplating just ditching the party, or at least this party, the theater department kids apparently throw a mean Halloween party, which actually… He furrows his brow. The whole reason he came to this party specifically was to avoid possibly running into Simon and Cal. Fat load of good that did him. 

…But why weren’t they at the other party? They're both theater kids…

He nearly drops his cup when a feather light touch makes itself known on his other arm. Bram jerks in surprise, only to come face to face with the very object of his affections and moping. Simon is standing there, his mouth twisted into a beaming crooked smile which shows off the fake fangs he’s got in. 

Which. Shouldn’t be as hot as it is. Bram takes another drink.

His hair is impossibly mused up and wild, dark brown locks fall into his face and curl under his ears. Simon let his hair grow out a little longer during college and it’s… a very good look on him. His face is flushed, his eyeliner is smudged under his eyes and he’s even more beautiful than Bram can legally allow himself to notice. 

“Bram!” Simon’s voice is happy and excited and he’s leaning in closer and God… it is like Halloween all over again. This year, however, he’s determined not to make out with another minion. 

Bram can’t help the smile that curls on his lips though. Simon is stunning when he smiles like pure liquefied sunshine and his brown eyes glitter like ambers. It certainly doesn’t hurt that that look is directed entirely at Bram and not at Cal Price or any other attractive guy here in attendance. 

“Simon.” His voice is softer and rougher than he intends. Blushing, he clears his throat and Simon’s grin takes on a mischievous edge. The grin plus fangs, eyeliner and hair are really doing it for him. “How are you?” 

Simon shakes his head with a laugh. “I’m doing great, why are _you_ hanging out on the wall? It’s Halloween! You love Halloween!” And yeah, Bram does, but he didn’t really expect Simon to know that. 

“Oh, uh, I don’t know. Just wasn’t feeling it? I guess.” That was… lame. Simon tilts his head in concern and God, that’s endearing. Those earnest brown eyes could get Bram in real trouble one of these days. “The uh, music? Doesn’t help. Either.” God, you’d think being in love with the same person for nearly six years would make talking to them easier, but it’s just as impossible as it’s ever been. Christ, he’s been in love with Simon Spier for six fucking years. 

Simon nods his head enthusiastically. “Oh my god, I know!” Simon lets the word ‘know’ drag out and it makes Bram squirm a little. 

Bram wants to be brave. It’s been six years. He can do this. He downs the rest of his drink, unaware of the way Simon’s eyes follow the line of his throat as he swallows. 

“It sounds like one of the frat boys’ own personal Soundcloud account.” Simon snickers and leans against the wall to look up at Bram, mirth dancing in his eyes. 

“God, that’s exactly what this is! One of Cal’s buddies asked him to come when he dropped his ‘sick’ tunes or whatever.” Simon laughs and Bram ignores the mention of the other boy. “That’s why we’re here tonight, actually. Though, if it really doesn’t get better, I refuse to miss the Time Warp with the other theater kids.” Bram huffs a laugh. Simon’s eyes turn sly and peer up at Bram through his eyelashes. Bram silences the sound crawling in his throat. “Hm, what do you think his Dj alias is?” Simon places a hand under his chin as if in thought. “Dj Heterosexual?” 

Bram snorts and rolls his eyes. “More like Dj White Privilege. Priv for short.” Simon laughs outright. 

“Actually incredible!” And watching Simon laugh like that, free and weightless, because of a stupid little joke he made… yeah. Bram feels like a he's won something. He goes to take another sip from his drink, trying to use the brim to hide his smile but the cup is empty. Simon notices and giggles. 

“Need a refill?” 

“Are you trying to get me drunk?” 

“If it means Halloween karaoke round dos, then _hell yes_ I’m trying to get you drunk.” 

Bram shakes his head with a laugh and accidentally shakes the flower out from behind his ear. Simon swoops down, giggling and picks it up. He's still giggling when he stumbles as he tries to straighten himself out. “Oof. Head rush. Too fast.” Bram can’t help but laugh too. Once Simon seems to regain his balance, he turns to Bram with a sweet smile. 

“Your flower, Barack.” And he reaches over before Bram can do anything, and tucks the flower behind his ear with gentle fingers. The air gets caught in his lungs. Simon’s eyes have flecks of gold in them. Wow, ok. It would be way too easy to just lean down and capture those grinning lips in his… but he won’t. He won’t. Really. Nope. 

“U-uh, thank you, Dracula.” 

Simon makes an almost offended sounding noise as he leans back out of Bram’s space. “Do you think Dracula would dress like a 90s club kid?” And then he gestures to the very tempting fishnet not-shirt he’s wearing, the very one Bram has been hopelessly trying not to pay too much attention to. Bram can’t help the quick sweep his eyes make however, and yeah the not-shirt and tight leather pants are really, _really_ doing it for him. Christ, ok. Get it together, Greenfeld. 

“So… you’re a 90s club kid? With fangs?”

“Well,” Simon blushes a little and his eyes flicker to the ground. “I mean; I am a _vampire_ 90s club kid… or something.” Then he narrows his eyes playfully. “Anyways, you’re reusing your costume! Isn’t that some cardinal Halloween sin?”

“Nope. Not when I look this good.” Bram doesn’t know where _that_ came from, but it’s too late to really do anything about it. Simon’s eyes just about physically sparkle at the joke brag. 

“You don’t have to convince me of how good you look, Cute Bram Greenfeld.” 

Jesus Fucking Christ. 

Simon is going to kill him. 

…It’s not the worst way to go.

“Now come on! Let’s get that drink!” Simon claps his hands and Bram catches sight of the black nail polish. Yup… not the worst way to go at all. 

Bram trails after Simon as he moves into the crowd and honestly he’s kind of mesmerizing. With the kind of inner strength created out of being in unrequited love with the same person for six years, Bram does not check out Simon’s ass in those pants. He does not. That’s not to say he’s not completely spellbound by the way he moves, still lanky and clumsy but with the confidence Simon so sorely lacked in high school. How anyone can be around Simon Spier and not have their eyes glued to him at all times is an honest to God mystery to Bram. 

The alcohol table is stereotypically crowded, but the other students part and make way for Simon to slip in and pour two healthy cups of Jungle Juice. Bram kind of wants to gag just thinking about drinking it. 

Simon hands him the new cup with a charming grin and Bram licks his lips. And then blushes when he realizes what he’s done and that Simon had seen it. 

“Cute Bram Greenfeld?” He blurts out and quickly tries to cover it up by taking a sip from his cup. God, it’s pure battery acid. But Simon just giggles and lightly tugs on Bram’s wrist before turning around and leading him towards an empty love seat. 

Hopelessly caught in Simon’s spell, Bram settles in with him, their shoulders, arms, and thighs pressed tightly together. The warmth of Simon’s body is both soothing and distracting. 

“Cute Bram Greenfeld.” Simon says in agreement before taking a sip of his drink, his nose crinkling in disgust. “ _Bleh_.” He shakes his head; his eyes look… fond. “It’s what I called you in my head pretty much since you and Garrett started sitting with Leah, Nick and I in sophomore year.” Simon giggles and Bram is blushing. A lot. A whole lot a lot. “Uh huh. Cute Bram Greenfeld with the curly hair, soft brown eyes and soccer calves.” Simon nods his head and closes his eyes briefly. 

And Bram… well, he’s pretty sure he prefers this Halloween party to any and all Halloween parties that came before. 

“Soccer calves?” He can’t help but ask, his voice teasing and soft. It’s incredibly hard not to kiss Simon right now, even just on the cheek or the nose. 

“Oh yeah.” Simon does the whole sly look too well for Bram’s comfort. His grin is impossibly crooked. “What? Do you think I went to all those soccer practices just to support Nick and Abby? Oh girl, no. Soccer boys have always done it for me.” This is too much. Way too much. And yet Bram wants more. 

“I guess I never really thought too much about it.” Bram mutters, reaching up to scratch at his ear. He made himself not think too hard about Simon watching his practices when they were in high school, too scared to get his hopes up about any possible interest on Simon’s part. And now, knowing there was definitely interest… well. Well. 

Suddenly, Simon’s mood seems to shift, his face turning embarrassed and his eyes panicked. “Oh my God. I’m sorry, I forget sometimes that like, talking like this about boys could make you uncomfortable. I’m so not used to talking to straight guys anymore. Except Nick. But he doesn’t really count. Oh my God, not to mention me telling you I had a crush on you in high school. Jesus. I’m so sorry.” 

Bram honestly doesn’t know what to do. Simon has completely misread his embarrassment and God, of course he thinks Bram is straight after senior year when shit hit the fan for Simon when he was outed. After that Halloween party.

“Don’t worry about it. Really.” He tries to reassure the other boy, desperately wanting to tell him that he’s gay and he’s incredibly flattered. And very in love. Hearing Simon talk about his crush on Bram in high school is some kind of dream come true. But he’s scared, anyone could overhear him and yeah most people are stupid drunk and won’t remember he just… This isn’t really how he wanted to come out. Especially to Simon. “I’m flattered Simon. Very flattered.” Simon doesn’t look as panicked anymore, but his eyes are narrowed.

“Are you sure? Cause like, you don’t have to stick around if you’re uncomfortable. I understand. I can go and find Cal and—“

“You don’t need to go.” Bram can’t believe he actually just interrupted Simon mid babble but listening to him talk about going to find Cal Price because he thinks he’s made Bram uncomfortable by talking about his high school crush because he thinks Bram is straight is absolutely the last thing he wants to hear right now. Or ever. “Really, Simon. If I had to pick a gay guy to crush on I’d pick you.” The words are out before he really has a chance to think about them and Oh My God. Someone take the alcohol away from him. He takes another drink. 

It certainly stops Simon short, his eyes wide. “Oh. Well. Ok.” Simon sinks back into the love seat, a smile falling back into place. “Cool.” 

There’s an awkward pause and Bram can’t help but ask, “If you don’t mind me asking… When you were outed there was a guy right? Um, what happened?” As if Bram doesn’t already know. 

Simon turns contemplative, if a little sad. Which, hurts Bram’s heart. “He wasn’t ready to come out. And like, really, I get it, I wasn’t entirely sure I was ready to come out at the time but then it happened and everything got… bad.” Bram wants to touch Simon, to comfort him in some way, but he keeps his hands to himself feeling impossibly guilty. He could’ve been there for Simon if he’d been brave enough to come out. But he wasn’t and Simon went through that year alone. 

“I’m sorry.” God, he wants so badly for Simon to understand just what he means, how much he means it. But Simon just smiles, sadness curbing the usually easy twist of his lips. He places a soft hand to Bram’s knee and gives a light squeeze before pulling away.

“Don’t worry about it. It’s over now. I’ve been out for two years, I’ve dated, I’m happy and confident in who I am now. I’m in a much better place.” 

Bram doesn’t want to pour salt in the wound or anything but… “Are you… over him? Whoever he was?” He's gotta know. 

Simon gives him a little side eye and Bram hastily tries to take the words back, feeling awful. Simon just waves him off. “I guess so? I mean, the whole thing was over email but he was my first love.” Bram’s heart clenches in his chest. “And I don’t know if you ever completely move on from your first love, you know? Like they'll always have a little part of you... But I’ve got my life and he’s got his, whoever he is, wherever he is. And ain’t that just the way.” 

Simon’s voice is soft and sad, but also unburdened and Bram can’t help but feel… well, he doesn’t know how he feels. He’s happy Simon is happy and living his life even if Bram really isn’t a part of it. There's a deep ache in his chest because he missed his chance to be a part of Simon’s life in a more substantial way. He can’t help but wish that if he told Simon he was Blue that… well if anything it would give Simon some closure. It would be too much to ask for a second chance. 

“I’m sorry for bringing it up.” Bram whispers and it’s only thanks to how close they’re sitting that Simon heard him. Simon smiles sweetly and gently,

“Don’t worry about it Cute Bram Greenfeld. It felt… good to talk about it to someone who really wasn’t involved in the mess that was my senior year.” 

Bram wants to go back to Simon flirting with him and wondering if it was possible to die from too much blood rushing to your face, not this. Not wondering if this deep ache, this unrequited love could kill instead. Because, fuck, it sure feels like it can. 

He doesn’t really know what to say after that. The truth weighs heavy on his chest, just shy of suffocating him. But he doesn’t get the chance to try and turn the conversation back around before someone accidentally bumps into the chair they’re in and spilling Jungle Juice all over Bram’s Hawaiian shirt. Both Simon and Bram jump up swearing and turn towards the blonde-haired girl in a Tinkerbell costume whose face seems to war between guilt and checking them both out. 

Bram huffs and turns away, wanting to be rid of the now wet and sticky shirt as soon as possible. But when he turns around to ask Simon if he’s got a spare shirt, he’s confronted by the lack of Simon at his side. Brow furrowed in confusion, Bram turns around completely and stops when he sees Cal Price reappear and how he holds Simon’s wrist. 

Christ, just when Halloween seems to be looking up he can't stop himself from putting his foot in his mouth about a situation he was far more involved in than Simon thought he was. The sticky shirt was just a nice bonus. Fuck. 

He quickly locates Garrett’s room and slips inside to find a clean shirt. Bram wastes no time in stripping out of the shirt and shit, that’s going be a bitch to wash out. Fuck. He drops the shirt to the floor and the room suddenly feels off kilter. Like the alcohol and heartsickness are hitting him now, all at once. 

He’s a little too preoccupied with trying not to vomit or cry or both, he doesn’t notice when someone else slips into the room until their hand is on his bare back and the unfamiliar touch makes Bram just about jump out of his skin. 

It’s the girl from earlier. Tinkerbell. Bram barely stops the scowl from forming. 

“Can I help you?” 

The girl ignores him, her eyes glued to his bare chest and it makes Bram want to hide. Finally, her eyes pull away from his exposed skin and her lips purse,

“Are you gay or something?” And that’s… not what he expected to hear. At all. 

“Excuse me?” 

She rolls her eyes. “You were pretty cozy with that Spier kid. And everyone knows he’s a fag. So. Are you gay?” She steps closer and Bram freezes, torn between fear, confusion, and anger at the use of such a violent word being used against Simon. “Or are you gonna let a pretty girl help you out of the rest of your costume?” 

Christ, is everything from Halloween two years ago destined to repeat itself? 

“Uh. I’m good.” He stutters out and tries to back towards the dresser to find a shirt. 

“So you are a fag.” Bram flinches at the slur. 

“I didn’t say that. Now, please leave.” 

Tinkerbell slinks closer still and Bram’s back hits the dresser. Her hand reaches out and Bram opens his mouth to tell her to back off when the bedroom dorm opens for the second time and just as her hand make contact with his chest, Simon ducks his head in, his face concerned. 

“Bram? Are you—oh. Uh.” Bram’s eyes fall shut. Of fucking course. Why would this part be any different this time around? “Sorry.” Only this time Simon doesn’t leave immediately, struck by the distressed look on Bram’s handsome face. 

The girl huffs and drops her hand. She turns her nose up at Simon and stomps from the room. Bram dares to open his eyes and is surprised that Simon is standing in front of him instead of Tinkerbell. 

“Um, sorry for interrupting…” Simon says softly and Bram quickly shakes his head and let out the breath he didn’t know he had been holding. 

“You weren’t interrupting. I was finding a shirt and she was, um…” Bram clears his throat and starts to riffle through Garrett’s chaotic shirt drawer. Simon reaches forward and touches Bram’s exposed shoulder as light as can be, his voice full of concern,

“Are you ok, Bram?” he repeats, his eyes so wide and earnest and, and… Bram wants to cry. He’s so tired of pretending. So tired of hiding. He just wants to kiss Simon, to cup his jaw, to run his hands through that wild hair…

“Y-yeah,” his voice wobbles and quickly pulls a t shirt on over his head, knocking the flower from his ear once again. When he’s got the shirt on properly, Simon still standing there, his eyes liquid gold and the flower in his hands. Simon doesn’t mention the way his voice weakened or the tears prickling at his eyes. He just reaches out with the flower in hand, his eyes watching Bram for any sign of discomfort but there is none. As if there could ever be, really. As Simon situates the flower, their eyes hold and the moment is so charged that… Bram is tired of pretending. How can he pretend when everything he’s ever wanted in a person is right here? 

With those gorgeous, gentle eyes staring at him like he is. With his pouty lips wet from the alcohol and his own tongue. With the sweat clinging to his brow. His hair tousled and long. 

And Bram, just, can’t help it. The pressure builds and shift and Bram _gives_ and leans down to capture Simon’s lips in his and his hand slips into long, silky brown hair and he smells like beer and sweat though it’s gentled by fabric softener and summer wheat grass. Simon makes a surprised moan into Bram’s greedy mouth, his long fingers reaching up to twist in grasp Bram’s t-shirt, his body shifting closer to Bram’s gravity… 

They’re pressed together, chest to chest, Simon’s delicate long fingers are gripping and pulling, the hand that isn’t buried in Simon’s hair reaches up to cup his jaw and his skin is so so soft, their tongues move together passionate and impossibly gentle, and the sweet keening moans that slip from Simon’s throat are eagerly consumed by Bram. 

_He wants, he wants, he wants_.


	2. a devastating undoing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...How're those two 8 page papers coming along, Emma? 
> 
> Anyways! Hope you enjoy!

When Bram finally pulls away, the breath stolen from his lungs, his hands tremble from where they rest on Simon’s jaw and in his hair. His eyes are squeezed shut, suddenly terrified to open them and see the look of disgust in Simon’s warm eyes, rejection written across his kind, handsome face. It would undo him. Not like the way kissing Simon undid him, it would undo him in a way that Bram wasn’t sure he could ever recover from. A car crash of an undoing. 

He can still feel Simon’s panting breath on his mouth and he knows, he knows he should pull away, remove his hands from the warmth of Simon’s skin, the silkiness of his hair… but how can he? How can he pull away when this is the only time Bram is going to get to touch Simon like this, going to get to have him like this? 

“Hey… _hey_.” Simon’s voice is gentle and breathless and Bram so badly wants to open his eyes, to see Simon’s hair mused from his hands, Simon’s plush lips swollen and red; he wants so badly to look into Simon’s face and see how his kisses affected him. Tentative hands reach up and touch Bram’s jaw, his fingers light but assured and Bram… Bram wants. More than anything. “Bram… are… are you ok?” Bram can’t take his hands off of Simon. 

“N-never better,” his voice cracks. The fingers on his face slide up to his cheekbones, the palms of his hands resting on Bram’s face, cupping his face and it’s enough. With courage fueled by the gentle confidence of Simon’s touch, Bram opens his eyes and his vision swims with the sight of Simon’s kissed breathless face, wide and bright brown eyes, alight with concern and something else, his bottom lip caught between his teeth. It takes all of Bram’s self-control to stop his tipsy self from leaning back down and sucking on that bottom lip. 

He likes the sight of his hand on Simon’s jaw… but he makes himself withdraw from Simon’s warmth. As his hand slips from Simon’s hair, Simon tilts his face and presses a quick kiss to Bram’s wrist and the air is sucker punched from his chest. Again. 

“Hm.” There’s a smile curling at the edges of Simon’s lips, his mouth crooked in the dashing way that made Simon look a little reckless and Bram is filled with the familiar want to lick into that charming, reckless grin every time it makes an appearance. Bram… might be able to stop himself from kissing Simon again, but he can’t make himself let go. Not yet. He drops his hand to Simon’s shoulder and strokes his exposed collarbone with his thumb. _Not yet_.

Simon’s eyes are so earnest and… “I’ve wanted to do that… for a long time,” the words rush out of Bram’s mouth in a single breath. Something sparks and shines in depth of Simon’s chocolate eyes and Bram’s cheeks burn with the admission. Simon shuffles closer still, flattening his hands on Bram’s chest and smoothing out the wrinkles his twisting hands created in his t-shirt. 

“Oh, really?” There’s gentle humor in Simon’s voice. “And just how long have you wanted to kiss me, Cute Bram Greenfeld?” Bram coughs in embarrassment, ducking his head. The nickname still makes his blood pound in his ears. 

“Oh. Um.” Bram reaches up to scratch at the back his neck, absolutely nervous as hell, the words caught in his throat. “Since freshman year?” _Oh God_. But in a smaller voice he can’t stop himself from adding, “ _…of high school_.” 

Bram peers at Simon from under his lashes. Those warm eyes are impossibly wide, his mouth parted, startled. 

“Oh. Oh. _Oh_.” The air leaves Simon’s voices in a whistle. “That’s… wow? I, uh, no offense, but um, I thought you were straight?” Simon’s cheeks are impossibly pink and _shit yeah, that’s fair_. “I mean, obviously you must not be considering, the um, _kiss_. Just now.” Bram lifts his head up and Simon’s hands slip from his chest. Bram internally sighs at the loss. 

Simon’s brow is furrowed in confusion as he continues to babble in that classic Simon way that Bram hasn’t heard in a while, not since Simon branched out in University and came into himself and it makes warmth pool in his gut. Seeing Simon like this, swollen mouthed, flushed, and babbling, is the kind of late night fantasy fuel from high school Bram only dreamed about but never really thought he’d get to see. 

“…And like, didn’t you date Tori Louis, like most of senior year? Not that, that doesn’t mean you’re not gay you know, I just... uh thought you were like, _really_ straight…” 

“Uh, yeah.” Bram makes himself make and hold eye contact. “That… happened.” His lips twitch. “It was, um, not my uh, proudest moment.” He coughs again. “She was a sweet girl, but uh, well, I panicked after…” Bram trails off, unsure of how to proceed.

“After? I was outed?” Simon asks, his voice impossibly soft. Bram makes a sound in the back of his throat, but they both know. 

“Yeah.” Bram shakes his head, wanting to step in closer to Simon but he’s struck with the feeling of not being able to move, unsure if he can or should step closer. He desperately wants to. Desperately. Consumingly. He drops his hand from Simon’s collarbone and shifts his eyes to the top of Simon’s right ear instead. _Coward_. 

Simon lifts his hand again, this time letting the tips of his fingers trail over Bram’s cheekbones, drawing Bram’s eyes back into chocolate depths. “I get it. _Really_.” And he does, Bram knows. If someone else had been outed like Simon and then treated the way he had been treated during senior year, all the sane closet gay kids would’ve ducked for cover. All the closeted kids _did_ duck for cover. Or, at least, Bram did. 

God, those deep, earnest eyes threaten to undo him. 

Bram feels spellbound, caught in the magic of those damn eyes. Coming clean to Simon has lifted a crushing weight from his chest and he wants to confess the rest. About being Blue. About loving him. 

But the moment is shattered when the door of the room they’ve been camped out in bursts open and there barely standing is Cal Price, the noise of the party suddenly deafening. Bram’s throat tightens and Simon steps out of Bram’s space. 

“Hey!” Simon chirps, his voice just an octave too high. Cal’s brow furrows, but he’s too drunk to really notice anything. 

“Hey, Si… I was wondering where you wandered off to…” the other boy stumbles farther into the room, his button up shirt sliding off his shoulders, exposing what may or may not be hickeys. Bram positively does _not_ consider who may or may not have put them there. Simon blushes and ducks his head in a way that makes Bram want to kiss his cheek and stand in between the two like a wall. Jealousy doesn’t sit well in Bram’s gut. He doesn’t move to intervene, but he can’t help the death glare he levies at Cal. Cal’s too drunk to notice anyways, too busy eyeing Simon up in that sinful fishnet not-shirt. Bram curls his hands into fists.

“Oh, uh you know… Bram and I were just catching up.” The large smile that forms on Simon’s face rings false, but that could just be the jealously talking. “Did you need something, Cal?” 

Cal laughs and stumbles into the wall to hold himself up. Simon takes a step towards him, his arms slightly outstretched as if to catch him if he falls. Cal just watches Simon with a heavy leer. Bram wants to sink into the ground forever. And for Cal to fall on his face. Maybe. 

“Just you.” Cal snickers. Bram actually wants to die. And Simon… well. Bram isn’t really sure how Simon feels. He’s flushed, but anyone would be after a bad, drunken pickup line. And their earlier… activities. 

“Uh,” is all Simon says. His eyes flicker from Cal to Bram, uncertain. Bram can’t handle watching Simon chose someone over him, not now, not this time, not after their kiss. Desperately, Bram wishes he was still drunk, wishes he wouldn’t remember this in the morning. 

But not really. Because forgetting means forgetting the kiss and that’s something Bram will treasure his whole life, regardless of how this night ends. Regardless if this night ends with Simon in the arms of someone else. _Fuck_. 

“You’re drunk, Cal.” Simon’s voice is soft and apologetic. “I’m not gonna sleep with you like this.” Simon’s mouth is twisted in a frown, his voice so quiet like he doesn’t want Bram to hear this but the words ring louder than the party downstairs, echoing off of the walls of his skull. 

Simon takes a deep breath, tightens his shoulders and walks towards Cal. Bram doesn’t know what to do with himself. Simon and Cal are standing in front of the only exit. He can’t watch this. He screws his eyes tightly shut. 

Simon’s voice is muffled and kind as he whispers to Cal, who must actually be Simon’s boyfriend. Or something. And Bram kissed Simon. Because he was drunk and Simon is so… beautifully, Simon. He kissed him because he loves Simon. Has loved Simon for so long and now, and now… His nails dig into his palms hard enough to break the skin. 

God, he feels like a fucking fool. 

“…Bram?” But like a siren calling from the depths of the ocean, luring him back out to sea, Bram responds still to the gentle cadence of Simon’s sweet voice. He opens his eyes and Simon is standing in front of him, concern coloring his face. “Bram, are you ok?” Bram’s eyes trail to the slumped over form of Cal, curled up against the wall and drunkenly babbling to himself. 

“I’m sorry I kissed you.” Bram’s voice is hoarse and he can’t help the wince. “I mean, I’m not sorry I kissed _you_. I’m sorry that I did when, you know, you’re drunk and uh, dating Cal…” He can barely get the words out. God, you’d think being in love with Simon Spier would be easy… or at least lessen after all these years, become manageable or _something_ , but no. It’s all so raw and exposed. 

“Oh, um. Bram.” Simon comes closer, his face gentling in a way that makes Bram’s chest tighten. His eyes skitter away again, unwilling to see the emotions written so clearly across Simon’s sweet face. “Hey, Bram, hey… look at me.” Simon’s hand is suddenly in front of his face, pressing a soft palm to the side of his jaw and guiding his eyes to look at Simon. “We’re, uh, not dating. Really. Never have to be honest.” God, those earnest eyes are going to be the death of him, especially when they’re looking at him so imploringly, asking him to understand.

Like Bram could ever deny Simon anything. 

“Really?” His voice almost cracks again and he’s completely unable to hide the hope in his voice. Simon grins. 

“Oh yeah.” Brown eyes glitter with amusement and affection. Bram feels caught again in Simon’s spell. “If I had to choose between the guy who uses me to get over his ex-girlfriend and the guy who I’ve been crushing on since senior year of high school, a guy who is impossibly sweet and handsome as hell… I gotta say, it’s not a hard choice. At all.” 

Bram can’t help the huff of laughter that escapes his lips as his whole body unwinds. Simon’s grin tilts upwards, just as crooked as ever. 

“Now, come on. Let’s put Cal in this bed here and blow this popsicle stand.” 

And as Bram helps Simon rearrange the other boy on Garrett’s empty bed, Bram hopes Garrett isn’t planning on returning tonight, they make eye contact and Simon’s cheeks are so impossibly pink and Bram really want to kiss those lightly freckled cheeks so bad he might combust. 

Simon grabs his jacket from the pile in the designated coat room and Bram is reminded of how little of a shirt Simon is actually wearing and his mouth waters. Long fingers reach out and tangle together with Bram’s and fuck it, he can’t wait a moment longer. Bram swoops in just as they breach the doorway of the frat house, placing a confident kiss to those tempting lips and when Simon’s lips curl lopsidedly, Bram can finally nip at the corner like he’s longed to do for all those years sitting at the same lunch table. 

And this time when he pulls away, he opens his eyes immediately to catch Simon, eyes closed and lips still parted from the kiss, looking entirely too blissed out and inviting for Bram’s self-control. When Simon’s eyes open, they suck Bram right in and he can’t help the beaming grin that splits across his face. 

“Come on. No one will care if we’re making out in the theater department.” Simon’s smile is impossibly crooked, impossibly playful and yeah. He's devastatingly, undone.


	3. an aftermath of sorts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final part for this piece! Though don't worry, I definitely plan to further explore the relationship between Bram and Simon in this little AU with all kinds of college hijinks. So keep any eye out for that!
> 
> Thanks for all the love support xx

Bram has wanted to tangle his fingers into the fishnet not-shirt since the moment he laid eyes on Simon at the previous Halloween party. He wanted to crook his fingers into the netting and tug. Wanted to feel the silken heat of Simon’s stomach through the textured not-shirt. 

Dreams really do come true, it seems. 

But dreams and fantasies couldn’t have ever prepared him for the real deal. The pleasure, the rush of having Simon in his lap, thighs straddling his hips, hungry lips sucking and biting at his neck, Bram’s borrowed shirt discarded somewhere… devouring, devouring… The keening mewls that escape Simon’s throat when Bram’s hands tighten in those long and wild locks, his finger nails scraping against his scalp, and the other hand, tangled in the fish netting, grip tight on Simon’s slender hip. Possessing and being possessed. 

Getting to kiss Simon like this, getting to _be_ kissed by Simon like this… well. Maybe he could sort of, possibly understand why those couples are always making out in the halls. It’s still gross, but like, he gets it. Now. 

Bram’s own breathless panting and wrecked moans seem so loud in the empty space of one of the changing rooms back stage, hidden from the not-so-secret Halloween party happening out front. Any moment now, someone is going to stumble back here, probably for the same purpose they themselves are back here, or to throw up their guts, and they’re going to hear Bram Greenfeld gasping out in the dark while Simon Spier sucks an impressive hickey to the junction where his neck meets his shoulder, teeth scraping over the sensitive skin. They’re going to hear Simon mewl something filthy when Bram’s hands tighten in his hair, tightening on his hip in response to Simon’s magic mouth. 

And surprisingly, Bram couldn’t even make himself care.

He’s never been this reckless before, any and all making out that Bram has engaged in before tonight, have been tense and awkward and in the dark, safety of his dorm room and not nearly as hot and amazing as this. Though to be fair, all previous make out partners, all three of them, before tonight have been women, so it hasn’t been exactly been… ideal. 

But tonight, wrapped up in the flush of Simon’s skin, the wet heat of his silken mouth, the weight of his body, his _masculine_ body, the rocking of their hips together… tonight, wrapped up in the arms of the only man Bram has ever loved and never thought he’d get to have, caution is a mere thing of the past. Bram doesn’t have time to be cautious, he tries to push it from his mind, and to Simon’s very talented credit, Bram has been very successful at ignoring the impending feeling of dread, but every once and a while the thoughts and feelings crawl back in. 

Simon doesn’t know he is, or he was, Blue. Simon doesn’t know. 

He doesn’t have time to cautious, because once Bram tells him, and Bram will tell him tonight, Simon will leave him feeling betrayed. And go back into the drunk arms of Cal Price. Or some other attractive gay guy Bram has seen Simon hang out with on campus, all sly grins and giggles. 

With one last lascivious nip to the underside of Bram’s jaw, Simon soothes the red skin with a delicate and lingering kiss before pulling away and… _wow_. Bram’s eyes widen. Simon’s half-lidded bedroom eyes are… too much. Way too much. Especially when Bram is this close to coming in his pants. 

“You think loudly.” Simon’s voice is wretched and rough and it takes everything in Bram not to lean forward and swallow that talented tongue back into his mouth, stealing Simon’s breath, his words, his voice. Simon tilts his head in a move that would be the picture of sweetness if it weren’t for the way his not-shirt is rucked up, the bulge in his pants, the way his pupils are blown so wide, and the way his mouth looks… if it weren’t for the things that mouth can do… things Bram is now intimately aware of. Jesus H. _Christ_. 

This is going to crash and burn so bad when Bram tells him. 

Simon’s earnest brown eyes are hazy with lust, but that doesn’t stop the inkling of concern from blooming. And Bram wants to pepper Simon with his kisses, with all of his love, this beautiful boy… this boy he’s loved for so long, who is so gorgeous and considerate, full of witty humor and a heart so big… Bram could stare at Simon for ages, this stunning siren, both sinfully delicious and heartwarmingly sweet and kind. 

Simon’s gentle touch on his jaw, his thumb pressed softly against Bram’s swollen lips, brings him back to the soft concern in Simon’s eyes. “I know I’ve asked you this a lot tonight, but are you ok?” A note of uncertainty creeps into Simon’s voice. “Are… are you ok with, you know, this?” He shyly gestures between them. “Because if this is too much or if we’re moving too fast or not fast enough, you can tell me.” Earnest, earnest, earnest. Bram has it so fucking bad. 

“Th-this,” his voice cracks and he grimaces. Simon’s thumb gently swipes across his bottom lip and Bram tilts his head to place a gentle kiss to the soft palm of Simon’s hand. Simon’s smile is pure warmth. “This is _perfect_. Really. More than perfect.” Bram cuts himself off before he can start listing off adjectives and insistences of just how beyond perfect kissing Simon is, but if that’s what Simon needs to hear, he will. He’d give Simon anything he asks for, anything at all. 

Simon’s smile is so bright; he might as well be channeling the sun. Bram’s almost a little surprised no-one can see his smile shining like a beacon in the dark. 

But it doesn’t last.

“Hm. Well, _something_ is preoccupying your thoughts,” Simon urges. “Anything you want to share with the class?” Simon readjusts his arms so that they rest on Bram’s shoulders, his hands pressed to the back of neck and into the space between his shoulder blades. Bram savors the contact of Simon’s delicate hands on his hot, bare skin. 

There’s really not a better time than right now to spill his guts, but it’s terrifying. He _just_ got Simon, he’s not ready to let him go again. Not this time. Not with the taste of his lips imprinted forever in Bram’s mind. The ghost of his touch will haunt Bram all of his life. There’s no going back from this, he passed the point of no return when he didn’t abandon the previous party the second he laid eyes on Simon’s giggling, drunk face and his dumb costume. Back out to sea he went, voluntarily, happily, eagerly. 

“Just, uh, wondering about your fangs, really.” And that was… well Bram isn’t sure what kind of save that is. He has been wondering how the fangs have stayed in during their various intense make outs sessions throughout the night. But it sounds weak, it feels weak, it _is_ weak. And Bram can tell by the look on Simon’s face that he doesn’t totally buy it. He plays along anyways, running a tongue over a fake fang with a playful wink. If all the blood in Bram’s body wasn’t already in his dick, it really is now. Christ. 

“Oh. Us theater kids, you know. We take our props and fake fangs very seriously.” Simon giggles and shifts his hips against Bram which is… Bram’s jaw is locked to keep the deep moan from escaping and any other embarrassing sounds that might try to make a break for it the second Bram let’s his guard down. How Bram spent his life not making out with Simon Spier is kind of a fucking mystery. “Besides, I tested them…” Simon goes pink suddenly, and his voice goes from playful to quiet and guilty, “uh, earlier…” Oh. _Oh_. 

There’s an awkward pause, but Bram shoves the bubbling jealousy to the side, not thinking about the hickeys he saw on Cal Price earlier. But really, what’s the point of jealousy now? With Simon in his arms, in his lap, looking at him, Bram Greenfeld, like that… like _Simon_ can’t believe he’s snuggled up with Bram, like he can’t believe he gets to kiss Bram. It’s unreal. A Halloween miracle. Bram’ll be sure to give thanks to both God and the Great Pumpkin tonight, regardless of how this night ends. Because right now its damn near magical. 

Bram smiles gently, trying to ease Simon’s misplaced guilt and squeezes his hip tenderly. Simon let’s out a shuddering, relieved huff and flicks his head upwards, trying to shake the long strands of hair out of his face. The glowing look in those eyes is enough to make Bram’s heart stutter in his chest in the very familiar Oh-My-God-I’m-So-In-Love-With-You way. Bram doesn’t try to stop himself from tucking the wild locks behind Simon’s ear and the way his eyes glimmer in silent fond, thanks is enough for Bram to re-decide that he’d really do anything for Simon. 

The moment is short-lived however, because as cute as this little rabbit trail has been, the downward tilt of Simon’s mouth says he’s still unconvinced and yeah, Bram wasn’t really trying to put him off of his inquiry anyways. 

He isn’t really sure _how_ to explain to Simon that he was Blue. He could start with talking about that first tumblr post, he could talk about how sorry he was and still is about abandoning him during senior year, for not showing up while Simon put himself out there on the Ferris wheel, he could talk about a million and one moments where Bram found himself falling even more deeply in love with Simon, he could talk about any number of things, give apology after apology, any of it would be, at least, a good start. Not just, blurting it out like a massive dumbass. 

“I’m Blue.” Oh. My. God. Bram’s own heart stops once the words burst from his lips, no build up, no apologies, just straight dumbass-ary. 

God knows what Simon’s thinking or feeling right now. His face is carefully blank and it’s easily the most terrifying thing Bram has ever seen. Simon doesn’t _do_ blank, he wears his heart on his sleeve, his emotions are always very close to the surface, even if Bram can’t always tell what the specific emotions are, he can at least see that they’re there. The sudden lack of shine in Simon’s brown eyes makes Bram kind of want to throw up and never be seen or heard from again. 

And Simon’s still not saying anything and Bram’s brain goes full panic mode, his hand still tight on Simon’s hip. “I’m so sorry! I’ve wanted to tell you for forever, but I never knew how to bring it up and then with everything that went down when you were outed, I just, I was terrified but I wanted… so _badly_ , please believe me, to go to you and be there for you… but I know I didn’t do that and words are empty without action and I’m so so so unbelievably sorry for abandoning you, for hurting you—!” 

Bram’s voice is frantic and pleading but he’s cut off by Simon’s gentle hand as it slips from its place at the base of Bram’s skull to rest on his face gently, his fingers now resting on Bram’s mouth, stilling any further motion or sound. Sometime during Bram’s vocal freak out vomit confession, Simon’s blank face cracked in surprise, his eyes wide and his mouth pulling down at the corners. 

“Bram…” Simon’s voice breaks off and they sit there is silence, still wrapped up in each other as the party rages on in the distance. Bram has to still the urge to start filling the silence with apologies and self-depreciation while he watches the gears turn in Simon’s brain. Bram doesn’t let go of Simon’s hips, his hands locked in fear, in antiquation of rejection. 

“Bram…” Simon starts again, his voice soft but positively echoing in the space while Bram holds his breath. “I… think I knew that already.” Simon’s brows furrow and his lips twitch. Bram just stares, not really sure what… that means. 

“You… you think? _What?_ ” It takes Bram a moment to realize he had spoken. 

Simon huffs out a breath and it rustles the dark bangs that had already fallen back into his face. Bram’s hand twitches with the urge to push it back again. “Uh, yeah? I mean, I definitely suspected it was you during Halloween of senior year, but then I walked in on you with that girl…” Bram winces. God, that night really could’ve ended better. “I had wanted it to be you then. So I was… crushed.” Simon shakes the faraway look from his eyes. “But I continued my search for Blue… for you, then the email leak happened and… I began to suspect it might’ve been you again, but then you started dating Tori so I resigned myself to you being straight. And kind of, you know, gave up on ever knowing who Blue was after the whole Ferris Wheel thing.” Bram… isn’t sure if he wants to hear this, but it’s too late now. Besides, he owes Simon this. 

“So I moved on, you know? I started sort of seeing Cal, but he’s lowkey always been in love with his ex-Samantha Pender so that really didn’t take off… any more than the occasional hook up when he was single… and one time when he wasn’t single, but I didn’t know that until later…” Simon shakes his head, his eyes looking incredibly guilty. Bram, is trying very hard not to get jealous. It kind of sucks finding out you might be the jealous type, especially when all of this could’ve been avoided in the first place. 

“And you know, senior year was a total shit show and by the end of it, I just… I wanted to be happy, you know? So over the summer and then into university I experimented and dated and stuff and it was fun and freeing, but I felt like I was always looking over my shoulder, waiting for Blue to reappear and want to be with me. But every time I looked over my shoulder, I’d see you. In classes, in the halls, in the caf, everywhere.” Simon’s face gets pensive, before he full body relaxes back into Bram’s arms, shifting his weight to resettle comfortably. Bram’s heart is caught in his throat. 

“And then, of course, there was tonight. Hanging out with you, talking with you… it felt so natural and right, almost like I was talking with someone who knew me better than I knew myself, which was fun but confusing because like, we were friends in high school but we weren’t close by any means, you know? But talking with you tonight, talking with you that Halloween two years ago, it felt like talking with Blue.” Simon’s smile is reappearing steadily as he talks, brightening and becoming dangerously lopsided. His brown eyes are warm, warm, warm and Bram is melting, melting, melting… 

“And then, you know, we were kissing and then suddenly you weren’t straight and it was like, this light went off in my head, all the things I knew about Blue and all the things I knew about you, it… it just all fell together and made such perfect sense, once the whole ‘Bram is straight’ part of equation was gone.” Bram can’t help but snort at that. Simon’s hand slides across his cheek and into his hair, fingers gently stroking. “Nothing has felt more right than kissing you, Cute Bram Greenfeld.” Bram might start crying. He really, really might. 

“You’re uh, you’re not mad?” 

Simon shakes his head gently, never cutting eye contact with Bram. 

“And, you’re uh, ok with it being me? Like, you’re not disappointed or anything, that I’m Blue?” Bram feels positively dizzy, his vision narrowed and all he can see is Simon, Simon, Simon…

“God, no. I’ve always wanted it to be you.” 

Gazing into those understanding and welcoming brown eyes… something tight and ugly, shutters and eases in Bram’s chest, transforming into something beautiful and free. 

Bram _exhales_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> also! come bug me on tumblr (@ghostemo)!


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